


Beauty I'd Always Missed With These Eyes Before

by twoam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Castiel Heals Dean Winchester, Castiel leaves traces of his grace in Dean when he heals him, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), During Canon, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29240481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoam/pseuds/twoam
Summary: The consequences of a demon hunt turn out to be eye-opening, just not how the demons expected it to be eye-opening.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Beauty I'd Always Missed With These Eyes Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/gifts).



Smoke was on the air, the smell of Sam taking care of business. He'd insisted, left Dean to make the long walk back to Baby on his own. It meant there was no audience how much each inhale hurt like a bitch at least. He leaned against the driver's door, keys in his hand, and tried not to hiss when he took too deep a breath.

He hoped it was just bruising and those assholes hadn't cracked any ribs. He couldn't let Sam see it, because then they'd have to discuss urgent care, and paying for the privilege of waiting around for a radiologist to tell him that yeah, he was hurt again. Dean just wanted to go home, pop some painkillers they'd stashed from their last visit, which was way too recently for his tastes, and wash off the grime of this hunt and sleep. He could handle a couple hours of driving. The pain would keep him awake. 

Sam approached, wiping the blood off his forehead with the back of his hand. Dean wanted to go already, but the shift in Sam's expression, a bitch face that said he was gearing up for an argument, made him stiffen up against the door. The pain shot up him in response to the sudden movement, a wince he barely shut down and made Sam's face tighten in response.

"You're not driving." 

"The hell I'm not." Sam stopped in front of him, shifted his shoulders before crossing his arms, and pinned Dean down with a stare that said he was picking this fight. It was a rare day when that stare would stop him and it sure as hell wasn't today. 

"You're clearly in pain."

"I'm fine." 

"They got you in the ribs." 

"It's just bruising." 

"So you're just going to brute force your way through this too? Great plan, Dean." Sam hadn't agreed with his brute force strategy earlier, was still sore about it even though Dean was now actually sore. It'd worked. He'd ganked the demons even if it meant letting them tie him up and let them think he was on the ropes. It gave Sam the chance to take them out, but Sam still looked pissy about it. 

"I just – I just wanna go home, man." Sam sighed and snatched the keys out of his hand. 

"Fine, but I'm driving." It was a compromise. Dean would put up with Sam driving, and Sam would quit nagging him about his injuries. It would make Dean sigh, if the pain from his ribs didn't suggest that would be a very poor course of action. Instead he pushed himself back off from the door, looked at the driver's seat with barely concealed longing before switching sides. 

Despite having driver's privileges, Sam didn't pick the music. He let Dean pick, let him search through the few tapes he could reach without agony. It was a sign that he was about to get a barrage of questions. Great. Sam waited until they were on the interstate, Zeppelin blasting as Dean let his head rest against the window.

"What were they trying to find out?" Dean groaned and shut his eyes. He didn't fucking care, they were dead, but Sam still wanted the 411. 

"Some shit about grace or something. I was kinda busy trying not to get my ass fried."

"Why would they pick you if they wanted to know about grace?" It was a good question, since he sure as hell didn't know anything about it. If they wanted that, they would have been better off kidnapping an angel. As long as it wasn't Cas, Dean would welcome them picking the brains of any angel they wanted. They probably deserved it. 

"No idea. I told them they had the wrong guy, but they seemed sure it was me they wanted. Anyway, we ganked them, problem solved, let's shut the hell up." Dean was surprised to not get more questions, but when he glanced at Sam he was mulling it over. Over the next couple of hours, there would inevitably be more. 

He wasn't going to tell him.

Whatever spell they'd tried on him hadn't worked, anyway. Since it hadn't worked, and he was sure about that because the demons weren't faking their disappointment considering what followed, he didn't need to tell Sam. Still, it bothered him. It was supposed to do something with grace, he hadn't understood, woozy both from sleep deprivation and getting knocked out. Cas would know. He could ask him without the immediate freak out he'd get from Sam. Plus, demons looking into grace was bad news. Cas needed to know so he wouldn't get caught with his pants down by a bunch of demons, or go off by himself to do something stupid and reckless about it. 

And then hey, maybe he'd get to see some flying pigs too. 

Dean opened his eyes again, tilting his head to look at the passing scenery. Nothing but corn. His ribs ached. The pain was a distraction from thinking about Cas, but thinking about Cas was a distraction from the pain. This time he allowed himself it. What else was he going to do, stare at the absolutely goddamn fascinating corn fields? Back-seat drive? Sam would probably end up pushing him out the car if he did that, bruised ribs be damned. 

He'd call Cas later, once they got back. He let himself think about it, about him, as the pain cracked through him with each breath, with every jolt on the road, despite how carefully Sam was driving.

* * *

He'd adjusted to the background pain, but gritted his teeth as Sam opened the door and thought of painkillers and sleep. Sam offered an arm he dismissed with a wave of his hand. He wasn't that badly injured, he could still walk by himself. The lights were already on as they walked in, a sign that made Dean groan in frustration as he reached for his gun. He hoped it wasn't the kind of unexpected visitor who needed to get their ass kicked. 

"Sam! Dean!" The enthusiasm in Jack's voice was enough to let Dean drop his guard. He walked over to the top of the stairs and looked down into the War Room. Jack was there, waved at them with boundless enthusiasm, and sitting next to him at the table, was Cas. 

Cas tilted his head up and met Dean's gaze. A slight narrowing of his eyes, as if he was looking into bright sunlight, almost squinting. Cas stared at him, eyes slowly adjusting, taking him in and Dean felt his stomach drop. The way Cas was staring, like he had some sort of secret written on his face that Cas was determined to work out, made something itch inside him. He couldn't pull his eyes away until Cas frowned. 

"You're hurt." His voice was soft, sympathetic beyond measure, and it made his ribs ache even worse. Cas pushed himself out of his chair, made his way up the stairs to him with the determination in his stride that said he wasn't to be put off. Cas reached him, much closer than he needed to check if he was hurt, close enough that if Dean moved their chests would bump. 

"One of the demons got him in the ribs." Cas glanced over to Sam, who dusted off his hands as he stopped next to them, before fixing his stare back onto Dean. He reached out. He knew it was nothing, just Cas getting in his personal space to heal him. It didn't mean anything else to Cas. It was nothing and yet Dean still swallowed.

The press of two fingers on his forehead he knew, his injuries and pain vanishing as if they'd never been there. The strange tingle that ran through his nerves as Cas healed him, yeah, that was familiar too. The way it lingered in him even as Cas lifted his fingers up wasn't. It sat in his ribs just like the pain had, but it didn't hurt. It wasn't pain. It was something else, cool at first like an IV line but slowly warming up inside him. 

"Thanks." Despite the fact that it was a dismissal, a hint that Cas really should pull back, he still lingered in the space he'd stepped into to heal him. A closeness that Dean should have pulled away from but didn't. 

"So what brings you here?" A sensible question from Sam. The way it was teamed with the look like he wasn't sure if he was interrupting something but doing it anyway, made Dean take a step back. For a moment, it was almost like Cas was pulling forward like a magnet, back to Dean. But he didn't. He stopped and looked at Sam, his face shifting, unreadable for a moment before it returned to neutral and serious.

"We need your help." Dean took his chance to escape while Cas wasn't looking at him, as a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with his now healed ribs eased.

"I need a shower and coffee first." Even with the pain gone, Dean needed the grime off him before starting on their next hunt. It couldn't wait, it never could wait. If it could wait, they wouldn't have come.

"Of course." Dean ignored the concern radiating off Cas as he stumbled past him and made his way to the shower room. He was fine. He couldn't get caught up in it, still needed to figure out how to tell Cas about what happened with the failed spell. That'd knock the concern off Cas' face, replace it with disappointment instead, like Cas always got when he did something stupid. As if Dean could somehow still disappoint him in that respect. He really should know better by now.

Coffee first would have been smarter, because he was damn close to falling asleep in the shower. His eyes kept trying to shut as he stripped off, even after he stepped under the water, but he couldn't wait any longer to wash all the demon crap off him. He fumbled with the dial until the heat was just right with closed eyes. His forehead brushed against the tiles as he leaned forward, let himself rest while the water beat down on his tired body. Oh, man, he needed this. Even with the angel mojo, he felt exhausted, and the effort to move his hands again to shampoo was incredible. He didn't open his eyes again until it was all rinsed out, because the soap was trying to slip away and preventing him from doing this without looking.

Dean grabbed it, squeezed the soap tight in his palm, and looked down. It took him a moment to register the golden glow he saw as he did. 

"The fuck..." He blinked, looked again but yup, there was still a golden glow around him. He lifted his arm, saw the glowing golden cracks running down his arm, opened his palm to see glowing lines there under the soap too. Cracks running up his palm, up and along each finger. The glow wasn't surrounding him, it was coming from inside him. "What the hell is this?"

He didn't look like this earlier. He would have noticed the fact he was suddenly glowing, light cracking out of him like he was - 

Shit. 

Was he about to go nuclear? Maybe that was their plan all along, to rig him up as a walking bomb and blow him to hell once he thought he was safe and dry. The thought punched any tiredness out of him. He was running on fumes but the adrenaline shot through him as he rinsed off and jumped out of the shower. The glow was brightest on his ribs where Cas had just healed him. It shone like a beacon, nearly blinded him with how bright it was. At first it looked random, but there was a pattern to it, every crack lining up with an injury Cas had healed. Through the fog of the mirror, he could see them on his face too. Cuts and bruises long since healed and gone, shining back at him again. 

A glance to his left shoulder confirmed it. A hand print was there, glowing with the same bright intensity as the cracks along his ribs. It matched perfectly, as much as he could look at it directly. Whatever this was inside him was leaking out of his old injuries, old cracks in him that Cas fixed. Why?

Definitely needed to ask Cas. He had to know the answer, this was absolutely weird angel shit, way too weird to let Sam close to even if he would be fucking fascinated by it. If he blew, Cas could probably survive it. Sam wouldn't. Dean made his choice, storming out of the shower room and straight for his room, pulling on clothes while swearing under his breath. Shit. He really didn't want to be a bomb again. He took a deep breath before praying. 

"Cas, I need you. My room. Don't tell Sam." He waited, his heart loud in his ears, scrunched his eyes up as he felt the seconds tick by. "Please."

"Dean?" Not even a full minute and Cas was there in the doorway. No coat, no jacket, like he was planning to stay a while. Concerned but calm, much calmer than Dean felt with his heart in his throat. Like Dean wasn't leaking light like a nuclear bomb about to explode.

"What the hell happened to me?" Cas frowned, stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. The tilt of Cas' head said he didn't get it, even though he surely couldn't miss what was wrong with him. He was glowing! 

"What's wrong?"

"This!" Dean gestured to himself, to the glowing cracks of gold on his arms. "I look like I'm about to go nuclear, man, that ain't normal. I think the demons did it, they tried to do something to me, we need to fix it." Cas' eyes widened in shock, like he'd only just seen what was wrong with him. Dean would make fun of him for being so slow if they weren't in the middle of a much bigger problem. "Cas, we need to fix this, now." 

"You can see it?" It sounded weird, breathless, as if it was a shock but not like how it was a shock for him. Like Dean was seeing something he shouldn't have, which okay, fair. He wasn't supposed to see himself looking like a glow-stick that had been cracked a whole bunch of times, he was pretty damn sure of that.

"Yeah, I can see it." The way Cas' eyes shot away, unable to face him, made his heart drop. Cas, for all he'd learned about humanity, still liked to drop bad news as if it was nothing. Cas looking away from him, avoiding his gaze as he tried to get him to look at him again, was frightening. The fear spilled over into frustration then into anger. Dean reached out, tilting Cas' chin up to force him to meet him again. 

"Damn it, I need to know how to fix this. I know we can fix it but you gotta tell me what the hell is going on." The uncertainty in Cas' eyes made him go cold. This couldn't be so big so he couldn't fix it. He had to fix this. If he didn’t, that was on him and not on Cas. There had to be something. But Cas was looking at him like there was nothing, like it was beyond hope and damn it, he couldn’t give up. "Cas." His hand stayed on Cas' chin but he wasn't forcing Cas to look at him now. No, Dean cupped his face like he damn well wanted to but usually knew better than to do. It made Cas' eyes flicker, whatever fight going on behind them over and won, the uncertainty gone as he readied himself to speak.

"It's not a bomb. You can just see the traces my grace leaves behind when I heal you. I need to check if there's anything else." Cas didn't shift away from his hand. The stubble on his jaw brushed against Dean's palm, against the glowing cracks of cuts for sigils and other fuck ups. Instead he reached up, fingers even more gentle against his forehead than earlier as he pressed in. 

It was the usual tingling sensation as Cas' grace pushed into him, checked for any nasty surprises. When Cas lifted his fingers he felt it. Something broke off inside him, a small remnant of someone else lingering. He recognized it as Cas, some fundamental part of him he couldn't usually feel but knew. His palm, cupped against Cas' chin, fingers lying against his cheek, glowed brighter. He swallowed hard and tried to find his voice.

"This is how angels see grace?" Cas was silent. "Is this normal?" Cas stayed silent and looked away, like Dean was blinding him, like it was Dean's fault that he was glowing like a lamp. "If you've been doing weird angel shit to me, I need to know. You can't just do that to me and then pretend you didn't. What the fuck, man, it's not right." Cas' eyes snapped back to him, irritation clear in them. Dean was asking questions he didn't want to answer. Dean refused to back down. "Tell me." 

"Yes, and no." Dean waited for an explanation, hand still resting on Cas' face. Waited until it was clear that Cas wasn't going to explain, even when he raised his eyebrows. 

"Care to explain?" Cas sighed, still irritated but resigned to explaining himself. 

"Yes, it is how angels can see grace in humans. No, it is not normal for a human to glow from being healed by an angel like you do." It wasn't much. There was so much about Dean that was so far from normal that what was this but one more weird thing about him. Except...

All those angels. The looks, the pointed accusations and the anger at Cas' fall, at Cas choosing humanity over them again and again. At Cas choosing him over them. They saw it, every single one of them saw it. Balthazar saw it and called Cas the angel in the dirty trench coat who was in love with him. Naomi looked at him, saw how he was glowing from all the traces Cas' grace left in him, like humans apparently weren't supposed to do, and said 'I only wish he felt the same way'. Ishim saw Cas' grace, leaking out of all the cracks and breaks in him, and told him to roll the dice. 

Dean dropped his hands, turned away from Cas as he looked at them. He couldn't meet the look in Cas' eyes, it was too much for him to handle. The light seeping out of every finger, how he'd managed to hurt every single one and how Cas had healed them. In the mirror in front of him he saw it too. Faint under the other cracks and lines he'd gained since, but still humming with grace. The glow from where Cas had touched him to heal him in Lucifer's Crypt. 

'I need you.'

He was filled with so much grace that on first glance it was dazzling, and it was all from Cas. It was like he was a pot that kept getting broken and yet Cas kept fixing him anyway. 

"After a few days you won't be able to see it any longer." Dean watched himself, reflected in the mirror. It was too late, he knew what it looked like. He could see Cas' devotion written into his skin, as he tried to hold the broken parts of him together. It was too much. He didn't deserve it, still wanted it. 

He turned back again to face Cas. The furrow of his brow said he wanted to heal whatever was wrong, as if that hadn't got them into this mess in the first place. The intensity in his eyes, trying to make it right, trying to understand what Dean needed. He couldn't ask for it, but maybe it was better if he just showed it instead. 

One finger reached out, caressed under Cas' chin before tilting it up, gentle this time. Before he could talk himself out of it, with his hand curled around his neck, he leaned in to kiss Cas. For a moment he was in mid-air, seeing if he'd be caught or dropped, if Cas meant it like that. Cas' arms around him, pulling him in tight, caught him as he kissed back with more enthusiasm than skill. As if he was never going to let go. Dean sunk into it, sunk his fingers into Cas' hair and tilted him again, moving into Cas' mouth. He turned them, a hand on Cas' hip, solid and muscular against his fingers as he held on and turned him, until they fell onto his bed, pinning Cas down under him.

Cas pulled back. His hair was a mussed mess, his lips wet and pink from kissing as he lay his head back on Dean's pillow, like he had always been there. His eyes watched Dean as he reached up for his wrist, pressed light kisses from his wrist to the tip of his fingers along the cracks. 

"You didn't need to fix me like this. I'm just a guy, Cas." Cas kissed his palm, tickling the skin. Dean felt the 'no' against his skin before Cas lifted his hand and rested it against his cheek. 

"It feels like I've failed when I do. I should prevent you needing to be fixed in the first place." Deep sincerity in his blue eyes, trying to get Dean to understand. "But it's beautiful, too. How you continue, don't stop because of your breaks. How you keep going and piece yourself back together. It is very human. How you change and yet you are always Dean Winchester, how this," Cas reached out to rest his palm against his heart, felt the warmth of his hand through the thinness of his tee, gave him an affectionate smile, "does not change, even when it breaks. It is so beautiful, and you are beautiful, not despite the cracks but with them and even because of them." 

It would have been so easy to deflect. He could have said something flippant about being called beautiful, not something to call a dude, but he couldn't. Not with Cas looking at him like this, like he'd been worth it. The grace, falling, everything. It was easier to lean down, to kiss him again instead.

He was still tired as hell though. He could feel himself starting to fall asleep as he pulled back from Cas' lips, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. The fondness on Cas' face as he reached up, traced his thumb along a crack on his cheek. Dean yawned, eyes shutting even as he tried to keep them open. He wanted to take in the expression on Cas' face for just a few minutes longer.

"You're tired. You should sleep."

"No shit. What tipped you off?" Cas quirked his mouth in response, letting his thumb rub along just under his eye. It made him ask what he always wanted to ask Cas. "You staying?" 

"Of course." Dean cracked one eye up to give him a really good look, to make sure he wasn't just saying what he wanted to hear before sneaking off again. Cas, amused, turned them both over with a heavy thump. "We still need to talk to both of you tomorrow." Dean thought of what Sam was doing right now, how he was probably being bombarded with hundreds of questions from Jack. Probably wondering where the two of them were too and if Dean was going to show up to save him. It made him smile. Hah. After the endless questioning on the drive home, Sam could deal for one night. 

Cas pulled him in closer, tight in his arms and tucked him in under his chin. A kiss pressed on the top of his head as his eyes fluttered shut against his chest. "Sleep." 

"Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

* * *

The warmth around him woke him up, slowly shaking Dean out of his sleep. Whoever it was pressed up against him, arms circled around his waist and fingers interlaced with his own, and hips pressed flush against his ass, was totally overdressed for the situation.

Cas. It had to be Cas, who else would decide to sleep in a monkey suit? Dean eased his eyes open, tilted his head just slightly to look down. Even squinting, he could see the golden light shining on his hands. So that hadn't been a dream. 

"Hello, Dean." Cas' breath was warm as it tickled against his ear, voice thick and slow like he'd been sleeping too. Of course he didn't need to, which probably meant he watched him sleep all night. That should be creepy but wasn't. He loosened his fingers from Cas' hands and turned over to face him. He met the sincerity that Cas was showering him in as if he hadn't just woken up from finally getting some sleep after a week of sleep deprivation. 

He felt great. He wasn't sure if that was from the grace that he could still feel curled up inside him, or from the simple fact that Cas hadn't left during the night. Hadn't even left the bed to strip down and get more comfortable. 

"Mornin', handsome." Dean saw how Cas softened around the edges at that, as if he'd never dared hope for this. He leaned in, kissed him again like he didn't likely have morning breath. Cas opened to it, let him in to kiss his way into his mouth, lips parting as his fingers moved to run through Dean's hair and a hand curled around his neck. It was protective, his hand lingering when Cas pulled back to stare into his eyes. 

"I want to kiss you." The intensity didn't match the question. Cas pulled away to ask that? He raised an eyebrow. 

"Weren't you just doing that?" Cas let out a noise like Dean was being especially stupid, his gaze drifting down to the glowing cut under his eye again, before forcing it back up.

"I want to kiss every part of you." Cas' voice was low and rough, with a force to it that said Cas might have been thinking about it while Dean was sleeping. Lying there, holding him in his arms and thinking about kissing him everywhere. "Can I?" It felt a little overwhelming, though not like the 'pumped him so full of his grace that it was shining out of him' thing was, and it made Dean swallow. 

"Sure. Go wild." He turned onto his back at the small sound of relief his answer caused. He watched the shift of Cas' shoulders, capable of holding so much weight, as he moved on top of him and leaned in, lips pressed against his forehead. It took a few more kisses to realize where this was going. Gentle, reverent kisses along his brow, down to his cheek bones, pausing to linger along his jaw. Every single one along one of the cracks Cas had fixed. Like they really did make him worthwhile as he said last night.

"When did they start?" Cas looked up from against Dean's jaw, and his fingers brushed against his neck as he shifted to look at Dean. 

"From the first time I healed you." Dean shut his eyes and let out a hiss. Couldn't help thinking of all the angels he'd seen since then, all of them knowing something about him that he didn't. "Ah. That bothers you." 

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it bother me?" 

"Every damn angel knew about," he gestured at the cracks, couldn't say exactly what they meant. "Doesn't that annoy you at all?" 

"Dean." It was a request for him to open his eyes, to look at Cas again. He did it slowly, met Cas staring back up at him. Cas didn't look bothered or annoyed. Maybe a little wistful but it was tempered by the sheer affection in his eyes. "I have many regrets, but I don't regret healing you or that they can see it. They don't understand but they wouldn't. I only regret that they used it to hurt you." 

"Cas..." He didn't reply. His hands moved down, tugged on his tee in a way that Dean understood instinctively and pulled it up and off himself. Cas paused, drunk him in like he was dying of thirst, before moving his hand to Dean's left shoulder and pressing over the glowing lines of the hand print. Dean started, felt Cas' grace thrum through his fingers into his skin. When he glanced down, the light was even brighter than before under Cas' hand. 

"I am not ashamed of loving you." Despite that bold statement there was hesitance in Cas' voice that didn't match it and made Dean frown. "But I don't want that to be a burden on you." Oh, of course. Of course Cas was more worried about that than about himself. As if Cas' love would be a burden on him. The only burden Cas ever put on him was when he went off and did something stupid without telling him because he didn't want him to get involved. 

"Aw Cas, c'mon, it's not a burden." The words he wanted to say next stuck in his throat. Even now, with Cas this close, resting on top of him and looking at Dean like the sun shone out of his ass (ironic that was one of the few parts of him that wasn't shining), he couldn't get it out. Fuck. Years of squashing it down, repressing it from fear he'd denied for so long, and now he still couldn't get it out.

Cas took it as enough. It shouldn't be, Cas deserved more, but he still took it as enough and damn it, it was the sort of kindness that made him fall for Cas in the first place. It was enough to make Cas kiss his lips briefly, murmuring his thanks against them before kissing his way back down to his neck. His hand stayed on Dean's shoulder, his grace humming against his skin, the cracks brighter as Cas kissed along them. It only moved as Cas moved further down him, lingered on his chest and all the stupid injuries he'd got there. So many faded scars, visible again, that Cas lavished his attention on like he was kissing them better. His lips making a line on his newly healed ribs, carefully checking it'd healed with his mouth and fingers. Slowly, patiently, ignoring how hard it was getting him until he finally, finally reached the dip of his hips.

He wasn't subtle at all in his sweatpants. His cock was straining against them and yet Cas kissed along the line of his hips like he hadn't noticed. Even with his hands in his hair he took his sweet, tortuous time. When he finally pulled his sweatpants down, despite the way Cas looked when his cock bounced free, breathless and eyes dark with arousal, he still didn't touch his cock. He was as dedicated to kissing every part of him as he said, proving his love to every part of his body. Injuries he didn't remember on his thighs, Cas ignoring how they trembled against his lips. He worked down his knees, the cracks from smashing them against stairs, the accumulated scars from too many fights and just from where they hurt sometimes, another sign of getting too damn old. Along his calves, lingered on a long slice along his ankle that made him groan, even kissed the crack on one of his toes where he'd banged it against a stray table leg in a motel room and bruised it three minutes before Cas arrived. 

He was panting, considering just going 'fuck it' and touching himself when Cas caressed the arch of his foot, ran his thumb along it before pulling back up. He reached his cock and just - looked at it. 

"You are going to, right?" The desperation was undignified. At this point, when Cas had touched him everywhere but his cock, he could deal with it if it meant Cas would finally fucking touch his cock.

"I've never had to heal it." Cas sounded amused by that, even more amused by his frustrated and horny groan in response. It'd be cute if he didn't need it so badly. As it was he tried to give Cas a glare, muted by how hard he was. Damn it. Cas was a goddamn tease and it made his toes curl. Cas finally moved his mouth down to kiss the very tip of his cock before kissing his way along the shaft. Dean shifted under his lips, asking for more without a word that Cas took his sweet time to answer. By the time he finally slid into Cas' mouth, his hips were shaking from how badly he needed it, and oh man, it felt fucking amazing to be in that warm, wet mouth.

Cas wasn't an expert, but his enthusiasm was more than enough as he let Dean push deeper into his mouth. His hands buried themselves in Cas' hair again and the hum of appreciation in response made him shudder. He couldn't let himself look at it, at his cock between Cas' lips because it'd push him over and he wanted this to last, even as Cas sucked his cock like he was trying to draw his life out of him through it. Instead he dug his fingers hard into Cas' scalp, bit back his moans with years of experience of needing to be quiet as Cas grabbed the trembling thighs around his head. When he came it was deep in his mouth, fast and furious spurts down his throat as he arched back on the mattress. Cas swallowed down around him, swallowed all his come like it was nothing, and holy shit, it felt like every single bone in his body had gone limp. 

When he finally looked up, catching his breath again, Cas already had his cock out. He shifted, propped on his elbows to get ready to reach out and give him a hand. Cas took it in hand before he could, jerking himself off at a furious pace as his thighs straddled Dean, before coming with a quiet gasp of 'Dean'. The sight made Dean's breath catch, seeing Cas completely let go, and right on top of him. It splashed onto his stomach, a line of come falling perfectly on top of one of the glowing cracks on his stomach. 

It might have been embarrassing, if Cas wasn't so clearly into the lines where his grace healed him. Instead it felt hot, like Cas couldn't get enough of him, even if he was a celestial being and Dean was just some dude. Cas wiped his hands on the sheets, tucked himself away before flopping back down on the bed next to him. When he turned to look at him, Cas was already looking at him. He looked like Dean had shaken his world even though he'd barely touched him. It made Dean dare to think of more, of next time when he'd show Cas a really good time. It was a dangerous thing to think of in his life, but Dean let himself consider it as Cas shifted and buried his face in his neck. His fingers traced a line down Cas' neck, the glow bright against his tanned skin, before pushing back up and burying his fingers in Cas' hair.

"I love you." It was a low whisper against his skin, but he heard it, felt it and knew Cas meant him to. His other hand drifted to run along Cas' jaw, with Cas' grace and the physical proof of his love shining out of it. He inhaled, and took a moment of relief in being able to do it without his ribs aching. It felt different this time. Like it could get out of him, the words wouldn't get stuck in his throat this time. 

The temptation to say 'I know' instead was overwhelming, though. It was the perfect chance to say it and he'd never get another chance to. Cas' breath puffed against his neck, curled up and comfortable in a way that Dean never would have imagined possible when Cas first appeared in that barn, joy-riding in someone else's body. It made his heart ache in a way that made him push the thought aside. For once in his life, he wouldn't. He wasn't as cool as Han Solo after all. Dean leaned down, let that dark hair tickle against his face, inhaled the smell of Cas, lazy and relaxed after sex.

"I love you too." 

Cas lifted his face from his neck and looked up at him. He was practically shining too, just from happiness instead of with grace. It was the goddamn happiest he'd ever seen Cas, and yeah, okay, that was worth it. That was so worth all of it.


End file.
